Chapter 117: The Ratfolk's Cave
Night had fallen.
The catfolk trudged through the snow, leading the lich and dragonkin to the base of an unnamed snowy mountain.
The lich and dragonkin rode on a bone-beast drawn sleigh that halted at the mountainside. Beyond lay rugged mountain paths filled with cliffs, no longer suitable for sleigh travel.
The lich and dragonkin disembarked as another swirl of snow enveloped them, burying both sleigh and bone-beasts beneath the white blanket.
The skeleton soldiers had vanished using similar magic earlier. Jessia watched as the lich waved its staff, causing all troops to disappear amid a flurry of snow right before her eyes, the staff itself vanishing afterward.
Jessia marveled once more at the lich’s formidable power. This ability to command blizzards and summon skeleton soldiers at will filled her with awe.
No longer harboring any doubts about the lich’s identity, she dared not entertain further rebellious thoughts.
“Honored one, the Black Cat Society’s hideout lies atop this mountain,” Jessia said.
“Lead the way,” commanded the dragonkin.
Behind her stood three men cloaked in black robes.
These three had remained silent throughout the journey, lifeless as puppets.
Perhaps they truly were lich-modified puppets, Jessia mused. Though she could detect their heartbeat and breathing confirming they lived, they seemed devoid of independent will.
What purpose did they serve?
Why did the lich bring them?
Though questions swirled in her mind, Jessia dared not voice them, merely guiding the group forward.
The wind picked up again, driving sharp snowflakes against the catfolk’s faces like blades.
Jessia instructed her companions to tighten their hoods as they ascended.
Thirty ratfolk crossbowmen took point, having slung their weapons across their backs upon reaching the mountain. They scrambled up the snowy slopes on all fours like oversized rodents.
Catfolk and ratfolk excelled at snow traversal. Many purebred catfolk inhabited deserts, their padded paws and lightweight frames allowing them to traverse quicksand that would swallow humans whole – a racial gift.
Sand and snow being similar, both species moved with ease.
Wade observed the catfolk and ratfolk nimbly crossing snowfields and leaping onto rocks.
He maintained a steady pace, his three slaves keeping stride effortlessly. As a Silver-rank warrior, mountain climbing posed no challenge. The slaves, former Iceland soldiers raised in frigid lands, found this environment familiar.
The dragonkin struggled noticeably. Just two days prior, she’d been imprisoned by slave traders, her body bearing unhealed wounds from prolonged inactivity.
Though her expression revealed nothing, she lagged at the rear. Wade noticed her stiff, laborious movements.
Tapping his chest, Wade signaled Mia to slip quietly from beneath his robe.
The little ghost floated to the dragonkin’s path, channeling magic that smoothed the treacherous snow into stepped platforms.
The dragonkin’s next step landed differently.
Looking down, she recognized Wade and the spirit’s assistance. A subtle nod conveyed silent gratitude. This kindness touched her – the first she’d known since her capture. Some tension eased from her posture.
Yet with the catfolk watching ahead, she couldn’t show weakness, maintaining a composed facade throughout the climb.
Soon the group reached the mountainside.
Here they found level ground and cave entrances.
A narrow passage hid behind boulders – so concealed that without guidance, discovery seemed impossible.
Catfolk and ratfolk filed into the tunnel single file. Wade followed, stooping through the cramped passage.
Flickering light soon appeared ahead. Emerging, they entered a vast, branching cavern.
The space astonished Wade – ratfolk scurried through overhead tunnels while intricate stone pathways and spiral staircases sprawled before him.
Surprisingly, natural airflow circulated through the cavern.
Following the breeze, Wade spotted windows carved along cliff edges.
The rodents appeared to have hollowed out the mountain. Through the circular portholes, night stars glittered beyond. Moonlight streamed through one opening where a ratfolk sentry stood watch.
The central area buzzed like a marketplace. Ratfolk chattered incessantly beside wall niches serving as shops, hawking peculiar wares – likely traditional foods like those brown hay-wrapped balls.
With Wade cloaked and the dragonkin suppressing her aura, their arrival caused no disturbance.
The ratfolk barely acknowledged Jessia’s presence, continuing their business.
Wade imagined any mouse-fearing human would faint at this sight.
“Forgive the humble surroundings, Honored One. This was originally the ratfolk’s domain,” Jessia apologized.
“It matters not,” the dragonkin replied. “Take my master to the largest, quietest chamber here.”
“This way, Honored One.”
Dismissing her subordinates, Jessia guided Wade and the dragonkin up spiral stairs to the deepest cavern.
Catfolk quarters were segregated – cleaner and quieter than the rodents’.
Unlocking a circular door, Jessia ushered them into her personal chamber.
Indeed the cavern’s most spacious and serene room, Wade surveyed the furnishings: no human-style bed, just a massive cat nest of sheepskin and straw sunken into stone.
Scratched oak logs wrapped in tattered hides littered the area.
Niche-like sleeping hollows lined one wall, lined with more straw and pelts.
A round iron window pierced the rock, half-open to reveal their ascent path outside.
The crude chamber still bore stray cat hairs on the floor.
Jessia scratched her head sheepishly. “Honored One, shall I have this cleaned first?”
“Unnecessary,” the dragonkin said. “Compile a complete roster with each member’s details for my master. Include all intelligence on local organizations.”
“As you command.” Jessia’s eyes flicked nervously to the skeletal figure before she hurried out.
Once outside, she exhaled deeply.
Alive. The relief of survival washed over her. Without delay, she set about tallying members and organizing the Black Cat Society’s intelligence as ordered.
Soon she returned clutching a scroll of parchment, heart pounding as she approached the door.
Hoping to satisfy the lich, she’d even documented her own intrinsic battle skills, guessing it sought to assess the Society’s combat readiness by cataloging each member’s abilities and specialties.